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Maybe it’ll be even better than okay.
Maybe it’ll be a real win in that date category I’ve been flunking.
Pretty sure even my matchmaker seems frustrated with me for bringing down her success rate.
I come to a slower speed and ease into my driveway, smile somehow impossible to stop as I park my SUV next to his beat-up vehicle that I technically don’t know is his, yet logically do.
Gah, even just doing this gets my stomach in knots.
How the fuck am I gonna survive an entire meal?!
Maybe I don’t eat?
Maybe I just drink?
It’s breakfast. Orange juice and vodka is an acceptable pairing to whatever he serves.
Grabbing my bag out of the passenger seat is followed by the exiting, locking, and strolling away from my Audi for my front door.
The surprise of course isn’t Tate waiting on the porch swing with bags of groceries but at how natural he looks there.
How natural he feels being here.
Ugh.
I hate it.
No.
I hate that I don’t hate it.
I also hate that I don’t hate it and know that I probably should hate it.
My eyes steal a moment to drink him in before speaking. His tight gray t-shirt that’s clinging to the muscles underneath it for dear life exposes tattooed forearms I can’t wait to get a better look at. His dark fitted jeans have holes in them; however, I’m not sure if they are for fashion purposes or from being overworn. The unlaced brown vintage boots, which are safeguarding the paper bags to the side of them, are an interesting, unexpected touch that present him being tied to an era that’s not his own.
All together the outfit reveals to me the real man underneath the uniform.
The one who has my heart constantly skipping beats.
Even now.
I lean against the nearby pillar and playfully inquire, “Comfy?”
“Quite,” he happily retorts at the same time his stare meets mine. “Spend a lot of time on this?”
“Not as much as I like.”
“How come?” Tate immediately investigates.
“I um…,” the honest answer fumbles freely from my lips, “I don’t really know.”
“Why did you buy it?”
“I liked the idea of sitting on it, drinking coffee, and watching the sun come up.”
“And?”
“And…,” my mouth keeps moving much to my surprise, “I liked the idea of sitting on it, drinking wine, and watching the leaves fall in October.”
